


A Touch Corrupted

by falindis



Series: Soulbound [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathtub Sex, Biting, Body Worship, Come Inflation, Goodbye Mairon's Butt, Impossible Anatomy, Lava Bath, M/M, Mairon is a monsterfucker, Porn with Feelings, Post-Theft of the Silmarils, Praise Kink, Reunion Sex, Size Difference, angbang, belly bulge, monster cock, pure filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26143609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falindis/pseuds/falindis
Summary: “Why do you still care for me?” A snarl disfigured Melkor’s features, revealing a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. Previously only his canines had been sharp. “Even now, my fëa and fana forever scarred, no longer beautiful?”Mairon drew a sharp breath as he came to an understanding – of why Melkor acted like this, why he had pushed him away.“You are still beautiful to me”, he replied.After Melkor's long imprisonment in Mandos, he returns to Angband with a prize - the three Silmarils. But this treasure does not come without a cost. Mairon must learn to love Melkor's new form - as monstrous as it may be.
Relationships: Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon
Series: Soulbound [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898458
Comments: 24
Kudos: 100





	A Touch Corrupted

**Author's Note:**

> I was requested an Angbang Reunion fic, but I also wanted to write a Lava Bath, so behold, the unholy lovechild of those two! Continues the story of "A String of Thought", but works also as a one-shot. Includes some pretty intense monsterfucking, so prepare your butts. Don't say that I didn't warn you.

In the incandescent orange glow of magma, Mairon lowered himself onto the bath.

He was alone here, far beneath the earth, in a private cavern of his own. The same heat that pooled here offered an endless supply of heat to the forges of Angband, now that Melkor had returned.

Or Morgoth, as the elves had started calling him.

Three ages Mairon had awaited for his return. Every day he had sat on Melkor’s throne, observing the doors in case his master would walk through them. He had imagined the moment more often than he could count, and that thought had been the only thing keeping him going for a long time.

But reality was different. It had not felt like a reunion, not really. Even before Melkor returned Mairon sensed that something had changed – that a new darkness had descended upon the world, the lights of the two trees of Yavanna withered. Soon after, the Balrogs had carried Melkor in, bruised and battered, clutching onto a tiny box of jewels like his life depended on it. When Mairon had rushed to help him, Melkor had pushed him away, not even allowing him to tend to his wounds.

Melkor had shut himself in the throne room then, accompanied only by his healer. For several days he allowed no-one in, not even Mairon. When he finally agreed to meet his lieutenant again, Mairon was greeted at the doors by the healer, who regarded him with a sullen expression.

“I should warn you that he is not feeling well”, the healer, a corrupted Maia of Estë spoke. “He is… changed.”

Mairon nodded grimly and entered the chamber.

“Mairon”, Melkor spoke from the shadows of his throne, too far for Mairon to see his face. “You are not to come closer.”

Mairon stood still. “What is it, master?”

“I wish you to forge a crown for me”, he said. He had then held out the Silmarili – large white jewels so bright that their light seemed to drown out everything else.

And beneath their pure, radiant glow, Melkor’s hands were blackened.

“Master”, Mairon gasped. “Your hands…”

“Silence”, Melkor barked suddenly, his voice a thunderclap. “You will do this for me.”

There were so many things Mairon had wanted to do then – to ask why, to come closer, to hold Melkor’s hands and heal his hurt.

But Melkor’s power met his like a wall, holding him in place. Mairon bowed between his master’s gaze, submitting.

“Yes, my lord.”

Mairon did as he was told. Yet not even then did Melkor allow him to his side.

“You must give him time”, the healer had told Mairon later that day.

“How long?”

“As long as is needed.”

So Mairon did. He distanced himself. He came to the baths often these days, them being the only place where he could settle down and let go.

With a sigh, Mairon returned from his thoughts and sunk deeper onto his bath of lava. The heat of the molten rock fed his spirit, replenished his strength. He dipped his hands onto the magma and watched as the veins beneath his skin began to glow, and his hair awoke with a lustrous sheen. He tilted his head backwards and allowed himself to sink under the surface, letting the warmth wash away the weariness from his body. He floated for a moment, forgetting everything but the fire that cleansed his _fëa._

Suddenly he became aware of something. A coldness, a certain _weight,_ something that Mairon well recognized.

He lifted his head from the bath. “Melkor.”

The dark Vala stood at the edge of the pool, his face shrouded in shadow. Only the blue suns of his eyes stood out among the darkness, along with the blazing, white light of the Silmarili on his brow. The crown Mairon had crafted him was indeed magnificent, with jagged, black spikes of iron that circled his head like sharp teeth. Melkor seemed to carry a cold wherever he went, each step of his feet freezing the ground beneath him. Although Mairon was surrounded by hot lava, he felt a chill down in his bones.

“Master”, Mairon managed to say. “How… did you find me?”

“Did you believe that you could keep your sanctum hidden from me? I _built_ this place. I know every crevice and corner both above and below the fortress.”

Mairon’s cheeks burned. “Of course, master. What I meant to say is… why are you here?”

“To find you, lieutenant.” Melkor paused for a moment, catching Mairon with his gaze, pinning him like a fly in amber. “You are surprised. Why is that?”

Mairon was not fully able to conceal the hurt in his voice, although he tried to. “Have I done something to displease you, my lord?”

“No. You have done no such thing.”

“What is it then? Why do you push me away? I have done nothing but be loyal to you. If you simply spoke to me, perhaps I would understand…”

Melkor remained quiet, but where Mairon expected to sense the same hostility that he had witnessed these past few weeks, there was none. There was simply a strange, unknown emotion that Mairon could not name, something sticky and heavy that hung in the space between them.

“Come closer, please”, Mairon continued. “I beg you. I need to see your face.”

Slowly, Melkor came, allowing the glow of the lava illuminate the features Mairon had so longed to see. But with every new feature revealed Mairon felt something tighten in his chest, for this was not the same Melkor that had lived with him in Utumno three ages ago, nor the same face Mairon had seen in his mind during their discussions through their spiritual bond.

Melkor looked _different_ now. His sharp-nailed hands were blackened, scorched down to the bone, and like an infection that darkness spread across his veins now, mapping his skin in rivers of ink. His previously warm skin had lost all of its color, now grey and cold as a stone, and the whites of his burning blue eyes were dark as pitch.

“This is why”, Melkor said quietly.

Mairon felt the instinctive urge to reach out his hand and touch his master, but Melkor was still too far out of his reach. Instead Mairon reached out through their mental bond, rekindling the sparks of a smoldering flame.

Mairon reached Melkor’s _fëa,_ but where he would have expected familiar warmth and power there was now mostly cold emptiness, with single, chaotic fires that burst into short flame before dying out again. This was but a pallid imitation of Melkor’s former self, and the realization made Mairon shudder.

“Your _fëa”,_ he whispered. “It’s…”

Mairon could not even bear to say the words. He knew this being in front of him was Melkor, he _saw_ that it was, but yet it wasn’t him. His body and soul were both marred, perhaps forever.

“It is the price I have to pay for this treasure”, Melkor replied, staring absently at his charred hands. “My _fana_ will forever remain like this.”

“Master…” Mairon was overcome by incredible sadness. “I…”

“Spare me from your words of pity, unless you wish them to be your last.”

Mairon hung his head in shame. “I apologize. I did not mean to pity you. Just… seeing you in pain… it pains me too.”

Something sparked in Melkor’s burning eyes then, but his expression soon contorted to what could only be described as confusion.

“Why?” he asked.

Mairon blinked. “Why what?”

“Why do you still care for me?” A snarl disfigured Melkor’s features, revealing a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth. Previously only his canines had been sharp. “Even now, my _fëa_ and _fana_ forever scarred, no longer beautiful?”

Mairon drew a sharp breath as he came to an understanding – of why Melkor acted like this, why he had pushed him away.

“You are still beautiful to me”, he replied.

Melkor’s eyes narrowed. “You lie.”

“I do not.” Mairon rose to the edge of the pool, reaching out his hand. “Let me show it to you. Bathe with me.”

Melkor made no effort to move. “Mairon…”

“Trust me.” Mairon tilted his body forwards seductively and batted his red eyelashes. “Master.”

Melkor let out a low growl. “You have no clue what that does me, lieutenant.”

With one, big shrug of his shoulders he let his robes fall to the floor, letting Mairon admire at the sight before him. Melkor’s skin had an almost blueish tint to it, and the black veins of his hands continued webbing beneath that was what normally hidden, like dark cracks on the surface of porcelain. They followed the lines of his veins, thicker around his chest and hips, the darkness of his groin. The glow of magma illuminated each curve of chiseled muscle as Melkor stepped to the edge and lowered himself onto the bath.

The coolness emanating from his body cooled down the molten rock around him, darkening and thickening it until it was almost still. Yet when Mairon came closer the magma became liquid again, flowing freely between them. Mairon crossed the distance between them slowly – carefully, even – as if anything hasty could break the moment. Tentatively he reached out both of his hands towards Melkor.

Fingers met bare skin, making Melkor flinch. That made Mairon startle too: Melkor never appeared this vulnerable. Sometimes Mairon hated him for it – how he kept his hopes and fears so tightly hidden, always playing pretend, especially when he was at its weakest.

But Melkor did not pretend now. He opened himself up to Mairon, relaxing slowly into the touch. Mairon’s fingers began mapping the dark veins, caressing every curve and crevice of Melkor’s upper body. Mairon was not sure whether it was time or simply imagination, but Melkor’s body seemed somehow _bigger_ than before, his arms twice the size of Mairon’s own, his chest wide enough that his lieutenant’s hands barely reached around him.

“They are disgusting”, Melkor said as Mairon ran a sharp fingernail along a thick vein on his forearm. “A taint.”

Mairon shook his head. He did not see what Melkor saw. Could it have been that the markings simply made Melkor even more beautiful?

“They are sacred”, he whispered. “Your whole body is a temple, master, and they only serve as manifestations of your holiness.”

Amidst the darkness of Melkor’s eyes two blue suns flared. “What about these hands, then?”

Very gently, Mairon took Melkor’s hand into his own. Melkor grimaced, as if the touch caused him pain, but he allowed Mairon to continue. Trying to avoid the palm of the hand where the burns were at their most severe, Mairon pulled Melkor’s fingers towards himself and pressed his fingers to his lips. Quietly Mairon then whispered a Word, a fragment of Song from the Ainulindalë – to fix what was broken, to mold marred matter back to an orderly state.

Mairon knew he could do little to heal these burns: gold and metal he could repair, but flesh not. Yet the Word carried some soothing power, and Melkor let out a gasp of relief.

His tongue still whispering hidden words, Mairon kissed Melkor’s hand, gliding his lips along the blackened flesh. One by one Mairon wrapped his mouth around Melkor’s fingers, beginning to suckle them with hollowed-out cheeks. They tasted of ash and burned earth, and their flavor lingered on Mairon’s tongue as he replied:

“All hallowed, my dark god – divinity in the form of flesh.”

“My faithful lieutenant”, Melkor breathed, “how I have missed your honeyed tongue.”

Mairon gave Melkor’s fingers one last flick of the tongue, pulling them out of his mouth with a pop. He then inspected the moist digits for a moment, admiring at the sharpness of Melkor’s claw-like nails, before guiding the hand to rest against his chest.

“Every touch you lay upon my skin is a blessing”, Mairon said, moving Melkor’s hand in a lazy circle around his nipple. “For three ages I have been incomplete, impure. No more. Beneath your hands I am made whole again.”

Mairon tilted his body forwards, and at the increase of pressure of Melkor’s nail against his body he drew a shaky gasp. Melkor’s claw had scratched a thin line of blood over Mairon’s nipple, and the fire it awoke on Mairon’s skin went straight to his loins. Mairon was unable to suppress his gasp, and curiously Melkor pressed harder.

“My, my”, he mused. “Looks like someone has developed an appetite for pain.”

“Yes”, Mairon gasped. “More.”

Melkor’s fingernails dug deeper, sinking into white, unmarred flesh. Red blood stained black fingertips, and Melkor stared at it, transfixed, until at last he took his fingers to his own mouth, tasting the iron tang on his tongue. Behind dark lips his sharp teeth flashed, and just the thought of being bitten by them made Mairon rock hard.

Emboldened, Melkor leaned closer. Mairon felt a breath of cool air on his chest, before Melkor’s black tongue darted out and began lapping the blood from his nipple. Mairon gasped. The sensation was hot and cold at once, the coarse tongue flicking and twirling around the hardened nubs.

“I have yearned for your taste”, Melkor’s low murmur vibrated in Mairon’s bones. He licked the blood from his lips and savored the flavor before bending over again and taking a nipple into his mouth. He began to suckle with fervor, sharp teeth grazing skin with each tug of flesh. Mairon moaned properly now, his back and neck arching towards the touch.

“Please, my lord”, Mairon panted. “I need to touch you. Let me take you into my mouth.”

That made Melkor pause for a second. He lifted his head and looked at Mairon from beneath dark eyelashes. “Are you sure you can handle it, precious? You should know that my body… is changed.”

Mairon could only swallow as he understood the meaning. His master had been well-endowed before, but now, his body larger, different, all sharp claws and teeth…

“Yes”, he knew. “I want you, master. _All_ of you.”

Melkor nodded. He moved backwards, then rose to sit on the edge of the pool so that his legs were still dangling in the lava. Mairon moved with him, pulling his master’s thighs apart and then admiring at the sight in between them.

Now that Melkor was hard, he was a sight to behold. His thick, blue-gray cock was webbed throughout with plump, dark veins, and the previously straight shape seemed somehow deformed, bulbous, with a sharp tip from which black liquid oozed. It was well the length of Mairon’s forearm – he could not imagine fitting it down his throat, let alone his ass.

But oh Eru, did he want to.

“Something caught your tongue, lieutenant?”

Mairon cleared his throat – it felt suddenly dry. “No. It’s just…”

Melkor paused for a moment. “Hideous?”

“Beautiful.”

Mairon reached out and ran his hands along the long shaft; Melkor tilted his head backwards and moaned. The surface felt ribbed and moist beneath Mairon’s hands, and he quickly learned to appreciate each vein, bulge and ridge. Still stroking Melkor off, he lowered his head to his master’s crotch and took an experimental lick from the tip. Regardless of appearance, Melkor still tasted the same as he had done three ages ago, and the familiar flavor reawakened an old lust within Mairon. His licks turned to kisses, until at last he dared to wrap his lips around the edges of Melkor’s cock.

Mairon could not take Melkor fully into his mouth at first – his master was so large that it would have dislocated his jaw. So Mairon took him in slowly, inch by inch, beginning from the sharp tip and skating over the veined skin, until he almost reached the bulbous center. It was deep enough to reach the back of his throat, and he was not even halfway in yet. But Mairon suppressed his urge to gag, and instead focused his powers to relaxing his throat and jaws, transforming his anatomy, so that Melkor glided in almost effortlessly.

“Yes”, his dark master grunted as his cock slid fully into Mairon’s throat, balls touching to his lieutenant’s chin. “So good…”

Mairon took a moment to adjust and began bobbing his head along Melkor’s shaft, each ridge and bump rubbing deliciously against his throat. As he did so, Melkor’s hands wondered to his neck, entwined into his hair, took hold and _pushed_ him down. Mairon let out a sputtering cough. He tried to instinctively pull backwards, but Melkor’s iron grip held fast, and Mairon felt his eyes start to water as his throat convulsed around the intrusion that was Melkor fucking into his already-strained mouth.

Soon, the original pain subsided, and Mairon let himself sink into the sensation, half in the pool and half leaning on Melkor’s cock, floating in a warmth that bordered on the verge of too hot. The sharp edge kept him constantly alert, hyper-aware of his surroundings and the sensations within his body.

It made him feel alive again.

“By the Void, Mairon…” Melkor gasped, his voice rough and strained, “were you always this eager?”

Mairon felt his lips curve in a wicked smile. He was determined to make his master come, and he put his skills fully to use, swirling and flicking his tongue and sucking until his cheeks hurt. While his left hand focused on stroking Melkor’s length and balls, his right hand found its way to Melkor’s buttocks, into the warm crevice between them. Melkor drew sharp breath as Mairon’s fingers, still slick from the lava, sunk into his puckered hole, digging its way deeper and thrusting in tune with the lieutenant’s mouth.

“Ah”, Melkor tilted his head backward, the black veins on his neck standing out next to the strained muscles. “No…”

Mairon withdrew the cock from his mouth with a pop. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No…”

“Words, Melkor.” Mairon gave a slow lick, observing Melkor beneath cocked eyebrows. “Do you want me to stop?”

Melkor’s entire body shook as he fought to keep his composure. “Yes. I want to come—” Mairon’s fingers curved his inside his master, drawing out the most delicious gasp, “—inside you.”

Mairon pulled out his fingers, grinning devilishly. “How do you want me, master?”

Melkor steadied his breath and lowered himself back to the pool. “Take me.”

Mairon resumed to fingering Melkor’s ass, still open from the previous intrusion, delighting on the hot moans and whimpers he pulled from his master’s throat. He did not have to prepare Melkor for long – after three ages of abstinence his master practically melted into his touch, spreading his legs and moaning obscenely. Once all five of his fingers slipped in with ease, Mairon pushed Melkor towards the edge of the pool. He positioned himself in between Melkor’s legs, pulled out his fingers and replaced them with his cock with one, fluid stroke.

Melkor’s low growl drowned out Mairon’s gasping breath. His master felt so good, so _tight_ around him. They fit together perfectly, two wholes of one, lieutenant and master.

“You changed your mind”, Mairon said, still adjusting to the feel of Melkor wrapped around his cock. “What about coming inside me?”

“That, too”, Melkor’s breath rasped against his skin.

“What do you mean— ah!”

Something slick felt in the place between Mairon’s thighs. He felt the hairs on his neck stand upright, and he stopped moving for a moment, feeling at the alien intrusion against his cheeks. It did not feel like a finger – this was much larger, much thicker. Mairon did not see it from beneath the lava, but as he pressed closer to adjust better inside his master, he felt the strange bend of flesh between his thighs – a familiar, bulbous shape, now settled into an impossible angle against his ass.

“Melkor… _how?”_

Melkor grinned, sharp teeth flashing. “This form… has its benefits.”

“I…” Mairon was at loss for words. The thought both frightened and excited him. He was already overstimulated from just being inside his master – how would he feel like to be filled _in the same time?_ He would surely break.

“You can take it”, Melkor said. “My beautiful, strong lieutenant.”

“Yes”, Mairon agreed. “Give it to me.”

His hand moved to his entrance, slicked up by his magic, and he used his fingers to spread himself open and guide Melkor into position. Just the sharp end of his cock made Mairon’s breath catch. Even though Melkor pushed in slowly, Mairon’s entire body shook, his mouth falling open and eyes rolling back in his head. Finally, after an agonizing burn and bending the limits of his form, Mairon sat fully on top of Melkor’s cock, his own length still buried inside his master.

“Ah…” Mairon gasped. The stretch was so much that he felt his vision blur. “So full…”

“Yes, Mairon”, Melkor whispered against his lips, breathing some of his own strength into his servant. His large hands moved to steady Mairon into his lap. “So good, so _tight_ for me.”

Mairon wrapped his small arms and legs around Melkor and allowed his master to support him. “Only you could bring me such pleasure, master – fill me with such power.”

Melkor groaned, gently beginning to rock against Mairon. The sensation was indescribable. Melkor’s icy touch grasping him, the fire that each thrust awoke between his legs. The clench around his cock and the stretch in his ass, both torturously slow and too fast.

“Tell me”, Melkor said, “who do you worship?”

“You, Melkor”, Mairon gasped, “Master of the Fates of Arda. The Dark Enemy. The Great Corrupter. Destroyer of the Two Trees. Thief of the Silmarili.”

“Rightful owner”, Melkor growled, a sudden danger to his tone, the light on his brow unearthly bright, _“I_ helped Fëanor craft these jewels. They belong to me.”

“True”, Mairon corrected, sinking deeper into the touch, both giving and taking, dominating and submitting. “All yours.”

A particularly sharp thrust made Mairon’s back arch, and Melkor leaned towards him, pressing their lips together in a rough kiss. Heat washed down Mairon’s spine. His mouth opened wide, tongue darted out, battling for dominance against Melkor’s own, until finally entwining into one. The hot lava sloshed and shimmered around them as their movements grew more frantic, more urgent, cocks pumping in and out in tandem. Melkor’s lips left his, and Mairon moaned a series of incoherent words, each in tune with the kisses Melkor pressed down his throat.

“They will come”, Melkor whispered in between kisses. “Fëanor and his miserable kin.”

“Let them.” Mairon laughed, writhing in Melkor’s lap. “We will cut them. We will burn them. We will obliterate them from the face of Arda.”

Melkor roared in pleasure, his razorlike teeth grazing at Mairon’s skin, tearing into it. Mairon screamed. Sharp pain lashed through him, hot and white. Blood bloomed from his throat and stained Melkor’s teeth and lips red as he feasted on his lieutenant’s taste. Yet the initial burn lasted only for a while, and Melkor pressed his lips against the wound, beginning to suck at it gently.

Mairon’s screams turned into weak gasps. His whole body was freezing, burning, numb and feeling too much, and his thrusts began to stagger and the muscles on his lower stomach clench as he felt the impending pressure of his approaching orgasm.

“Come, little one”, Melkor kissed him with bloodied lips. “Call me by my name.”

“Melkor…”

“No.” A hard thrust against Mairon’s prostate made his vision go white. “My new name.”

“Morgoth”, the corrupted name rang from his lips, marred and impure.

“Sauron”, Melkor breathed into his ear.

Mairon’s release was a torrent of fire. His mouth opened in a soundless moan, eyes closed, and for a few blissful seconds he felt nothing but pleasure. He was only brought back to his senses by the sudden urgency of Melkor’s thrusts, still pounding into his ass, now verging on the edge of almost painful.

“M…Mairon…” Melkor moaned. “I’m going to come…”

“Yes, master. Fill me up with your seed.”

Melkor’s walls clenched around Mairon, milking him to the last drop, and the Vala came with a massive growl. His cock inside Mairon began to pulse, shooting load after load of scalding hot seed. In just few seconds Mairon was filled to the brim. He was used to Melkor giving him big loads, but this was bigger than he had ever had before. Even after several seconds Melkor wouldn’t stop coming. Mairon breathed shakily, moaning in pain and pleasure as his the come leaked from his ass and pushed its way further into his body, stretching his stomach until he could see a clear bulge in his lower belly. A burning sensation lined his throat, and he felt himself choke, spitting seed out of his nose and mouth.

Finally, Melkor stopped coming. Mairon barely felt him pull out – the only sensation he was aware of was the awful _emptiness_ after, even as Melkor held his small body in his strong arms, nuzzling his neck gently with his teeth.

“Look at you”, Melkor’s voice was rough with desire. “All filled up.”

Melkor’s fingers moved to lightly press against Mairon’s stomach, and Mairon simply whimpered as he felt a hot trail of come gush out and mix with the molten rock around him. He felt fucked senseless – his head was empty beside of this, besides the feel of Melkor’s hands around him and seed inside his body.

“Let me clean you up”, Melkor said. His hands lowered Mairon down slowly, almost gently, and began lightly scrubbing at the dried come that stained Mairon’s body. His sharp nails grazed as Mairon’s skin, but Mairon did not mind. All that mattered was that Melkor was touching him. _Really touching._

Mairon allowed Melkor to clean him, and then turned around to do reciprocate the favor.

“Mairon”, Melkor said. “I did not hurt you, or did I?”

“No. You were perfect, master.” Mairon wrapped his fingers around Melkor’s own, and although Melkor still flinched at the touch, he no longer shied away from it. “You will always be perfect to me, regardless of how you look. Or what you do.”

Melkor lifted his eyes, a strange emotion glinting behind them, something which was not only a trick of the flickering light. “You cannot really mean that.”

“I waited for you three ages. If I truly was not faithful to you, do you not think that I would have left once I had the chance?”

Melkor huffed. “I was different, then. _Whole.”_

Mairon felt his lips curve into an incredulous smile. Melkor still did not understand.

“It was not your _fana_ I fell in love with”, Mairon continued, “but your _fëa._ Through our souls, we will always be bound. I will follow you from this life to the next, and the life after that.”

Melkor seemed to shiver beneath his touch, and from the sudden pressure against his thigh Mairon knew, that Melkor was far more excited than his expression revealed.

“Thank you, lieutenant”, the dark Vala said. “This… was worth a wait of three ages.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked, I would love a kudos or a comment. ♥


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